The story has
been told of a thrilling rescue by sea of thousands of people
from the burning city of Smyrna. They were refugees, chased
there from their homes by the fleeing Greek army.

The
year was 1922. The world was still wracked with pain from
the wars that had ripped apart homes and lands. The Turkish
city of Smyrna had been given to the Greeks as a reward for
their participation in the war. The Greek army had moved into
Smyrna and pushed inland. Feelings ran high. Turkish citizens
were not interested in having the Greeks run their government.
Unwilling to submit to the new occupation, they rallied under
the leadership of Ataturk in a daring drive for independence.

The
Greeks were confident of victory. They pushed steadily toward
the heart of the country when suddenly they retreated before
Ataturk. They burned and pillaged their way back to Smyrna.

In
their wild retreat, they forced their own countrymen as well
as the Armenians to abandon their homes and flee to the coast.
Every road to the sea was choked with refugees. As the Greek
soldiers reached the coast, in their haste to reach safety,
they simply took ship and sailed away leaving their own people
as refugees, defenseless, to make out as best they could.

Suddenly
Smyrna was a burning inferno. The great mass of refugees pushed
toward the sea to escape the flames.

A
young American, Asa Jennings, and his family were among those
seeking to escape the flames. He had been sent a few weeks
earlier by the Y.M.C.A. to that troubled city to study what
might be done to smooth relations between the Turks, Armenians,
Greeks, and Jews living there. Asa Jennings put his little
family aboard an American destroyer and went back to see what
he could do for the refugees. Somehow, he arranged for food
to be sent in. But this suffering mass of humanity, caught
between the fire and the sea, needed more than food. They
needed ships.

As
Asa Jennings pondered over how to get ships for these desperate
people, he learned that the twenty Greek ships that had carried
the Greek soldiers away to safety were anchored at Mytilene,
an island not far away. What a providence! Immediately he
went to Mytilene, certain that here was the answer. Surely
Greek ships would be willing to save Greek people. To his
amazement, General Frankos, in charge of transports, responded
with an indifferent caution and indecision.

Undaunted,
Jennings would not give up. Seeing an American ship, the U.S.S.
Mississippi, at anchor, he rowed out through the early morning
mist to board her. He was determined to go over the head of
General Frankos and make contact directly with the Greek government
in Athens.

Telling
the captain of the ship of the plight of the stranded Greek
refugees on the shores of burning Smyrna, he asked that a
code message be sent to Athens, requesting that all ships
in the waters about Smyrna be placed at his disposal. It was
four o'clock in the morning.

A
message came back, "Who are you?"

A
natural question. Jennings had been in that part of the world
only about a month, and no one had ever heard of him.

He
sent word back, "I am in charge of American relief at
Mytilene." He didn't bother to explain that he was in
charge only by virtue of being the only American there.

Athens
outdid General Frankos in caution. The cabinet would have
to decide. The Cabinet was not in session. The Cabinet would
meet in the morning. What protection would be given the ships?
Would American destroyers accompany them? Did that mean that
American destroyers would protect the ships if the Turks should
try to take them? And so it went.

Finally,
at four in the afternoon, Jenning's patience was exhausted.
Boldly he wired an ultimatum to the Greek government. If he
did not receive a favorable reply by six o'clock, he would
wire openly, without code letting all the world know that
the Greek government had refused to rescue its own people
from certain death.

It
worked. Shortly before six o'clock a message came through:
ALL SHIPS IN AEGEAN PLACED YOUR COMMAND. REMOVE REFUGEES SMYRNA.

Those
ten words meant life for many thousands. They also meant that
a young, unknown American had just been made an Admiral of
the Greek navy.

Assuming
command, he asked the captains of the twenty ships to be
ready to leave for Smyrna by midnight. At that hour
the ships were
in place. Asa Jennings, aboard the lead ship, ordered the
Greek flag run down and an American flag flown in
its place with a signal that meant "Follow me." He
mounted the bridge and ordered full steam ahead.

Try
to picture that scene. As the stately ships moved forward,
on the horizon could be seen the smoke arising from the burning
city. Then the charred remains came into view. Imagine the
feelings as Jennings and those Greek sailors gazed at the
blackened skeletons of those once prestigious buildings. The
skyline looked haunted, deserted, depressing. Now the shoreline
can be seen, a black border of human beings in sharp contrast
against the waters. No sign that they are still living can
be seen, but Jennings knew that it was a border of 300,000
sufferers waiting, hoping, praying as they had done every
moment for days for ships, ships, ships.

As
the ships moved closer, and the shore spread out before him,
it seemed as if every face was turned toward them, and every
arm outstretched to bring them in. It seemed that the whole
shore moved out to grasp them. The air was filled with the
cries of those thousands cries of such joy that the sound
pierced to the very marrow of his bones. No need to tell them
what those ships were for. They had scanned the watery horizon
for days, longing, hoping, looking wistfully for ships. No
one need explain that here was help, that here was life and
safety.

Never
before had he been so thankful, so truly happy, as on that
early morning when he realized that at last and thank God
in time he had been able to bring hope, and a new life, to
those despairing thousands.

What
a thrilling rescue! An answer to their desperate hope, saving
them from certain doom. Friends, we too are waiting
for a
rescue. A rescue from a convulsing, troubled planet. A planet
where fear rules, a planet where death reigns. A
planet where
frantic, frightened, frustrated men will soon cry, "Stop
the world! I want to get off!"

Does
anyone see the suffering billions on this earth? Does anyone
hear the silent cry for help? Does anyone feel the desperate
hope for rescue? Does anyone care? Is help on the way?

Good
news, friends, God has an answer! He has scheduled a great
rescue not from the sea, but from the sky. Paul describes
it this way: "For the Lord Himself shall descend from
heaven with a shout, with the voice of the archangel, and
with the trump of God: and the dead in Christ shall rise first:
Then we which are alive and remain shall be caught up together
with Him in the clouds to meet the Lord in the air: and so
shall we ever be with the Lord" (I Thessalonians 4:16,17).

Not
everyone, however, will be taking that rescue trip. Another
story, another attempt at rescue over the waters comes to
mind.